Page 17
My fingers hover over my keyboard. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times and it still isn’t right.
Mom,
I have news that I should probably share in person, but I don’t think that’s possible right now. I’m pregnant. The baby is due in January. The father is Nash Thorndike, but I intend to raise this child on my own. I’ve filed legal paperwork to protect my parental rights.
I’m not asking for anything. I just thought you should know before you find out another way.
-
It’s cold, almost clinical. But what else can I say? My mother and I haven’t had a real conversation in years. She calls sometimes, sends money when she can hide it from him. I know she loves me, but she can’t be there for me. Not in any way that really matters.
I hit send before I can change my mind again. The message disappears with a soft whoosh sound that feels inadequate for such a life-altering announcement.
That’s one difficult conversation down. About fifty more to go.
I close my laptop and rub my eyes. The morning sickness has finally subsided, replaced by a bone-deep fatigue that never quite leaves. My body doesn’t feel like my own anymore. My nipples are tender and my waistline is thickening. I’m still me, but a version of me that’s being slowly reshaped from the inside out.
A sharp knock at the door startles me.
“? You in there?”
Meg’s voice carries through the thin wood.
I open the door to find her leaning against the frame, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hasn’t slept much. Her expression is grim, her shoulders tense.
“I need to tell you something,”
I say, deciding to just get it over with.
Meg’s eyebrows shoot up.
“I know. I already heard.”
My heart drops to my stomach.
“Who told you? I didn’t think anyone knew I was pregnant.”
The shock on Meg’s face is immediate and absolute. Her mouth drops open, her eyes widen, and she actually takes a step back.
“You’re WHAT?”
Oh shit. Not what she was talking about.
“I...wait, what did you hear?”
I stammer, mind racing.
Meg shakes her head, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yes. What was your news?”
As obvious changes of topic goes, that’s a humdinger, but she opens her mouth then closes it again and lets me get away with it.
Finally, she says.
“Not that.”
She fumbles in her bag and pulls out a stack of papers, thrusting them toward me. “This.”
I take the papers, grateful for the momentary distraction. It’s a new university policy banning campus demonstrations and threatening expulsion for any student causin.
“disruption”.
“What the hell is this?”
I scan the university notice more carefully. The language is vague. Any form of disagreement might be enough to get me expelled from my degree.
“It came down this morning,”
Meg says.
“Right after Thorndike’s press conference with the dean.”
“Nash did a press conference?”
“Yeah, all about the ‘campus safety initiative,’”
Meg makes air quotes with her fingers. She pushes past me into the room, pacing the small space.
“Thorndike stood right next to Jones while he announced it. Didn’t say much, but his presence said everything.”
I sink onto my mattress, legs suddenly unsteady.
“I don’t understand. Why would Nash...?”
“Why would he what? What’s going on with you? You know who he is.”
Meg stops pacing and stares at me.
“It’s Thorndike’s baby, isn’t it?”
I nod, unable to meet her eyes.
“It happened during my heat at the cottage. I found out after the Brennan & Wallace interview.”
“Jesus, .”
Meg drops beside me on the mattress.
“And you haven’t told anyone? Not even me?”
“I wasn’t ready.”
I twist my hands in my lap.
“I’m still not ready, but...”
I gesture vaguely at my midsection.
“It’s getting harder to hide.”
Meg’s expression softens.
“How far along are you?”
“About five months.”
I risk a glance at her face.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
She reaches for my hand, squeezing it tightly.
“Does he know?”
“Not yet. He will soon. I’ve filed for custody. He’s going to get the papers any day.”
“Do you think he’ll just accept that?”
“I don’t know,”
I admit.
“That’s why I need the injunction. That’s why I need to finish school, secure the internship, find proper housing.”
I look around the spartan room.
“I can’t raise a baby here.”
“Okay, we’ll figure that out.”
Meg’s tone turns practical and I recognize this side to her. She’s going into problem-solving mode.
“And I hate to take the focus off you when you need help but we need to deal with this urgently.”
She taps the papers.
“We need it removed today.”
I scan the documents again, trying to think past the fog of pregnancy hormones.
“This timing can’t be coincidental,”
I say.
“Nash arrives and suddenly the administration cracks down?”
“Exactly,”
Meg stands again, restless energy radiating from her.
“He’s behind it. He has to be. They’ve brought him in to knock us down. It’s also not a coincidence that you’re here. He’s going to try use it to get to you.”
I shake my head slowly.
“It’s not his style.”
“It’s exactly his style,”
Meg’s voice rises incredulously.
“He kidnapped you!”
“That was the Bureau, not Nash.”
The distinction feels important, though I can’t quite articulate why.
“Since when do you defend Thorndick?”
Meg’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
“I’m not defending him,”
I insist.
“I just know how he operates.”
“Well, whatever’s happening, we need to respond.”
Meg’s expression is fierce.
“We’re meeting tonight to plan our next move. You’ll be there, right?”
I twist my hands in my lap.
“I can’t risk getting expelled, Meg. Not now. I’m too close to graduation.”
“So we just give up?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I take a deep breath.
“I’ll go talk to Nash.”
Meg’s eyebrows shoot up.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll talk to him.”
The plan forms as I speak.
“I’ll find out what he knows about these new policies and if he’s really on board with them.”
Meg gives me a skeptical look. Her eyebrows are raised higher than I would have thought physically possible.
“And you’re sure that’s wise? Confronting him?”
“I won’t be ‘confronting’ him. I’ll be having a conversation.”
I stand, decision made.
“Besides, we’re on campus, surrounded by witnesses. What’s he going to do, drag me away in broad daylight?”
Meg doesn’t look convinced.
“He might.”
Her expression softens.
“, we can fight this together. All of us, not just you and me. We’ve faced university pushback before.”
“Not like this.”
I gesture to the papers.
“They’re cutting off our ability to organize at all.”
“Which is exactly why we can’t back down!”
Meg stands, frustration radiating from her.
“If we give in now, what message does that send? That they just need to threaten us harder next time?”
“I’m not saying we give in.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
“I’m saying we need to be strategic. And right now, talking to Nash might give us information we can use. You’re right about one thing. He’s probably using this to get to me. Maybe we use him right back.”
Meg studies me for a long moment.
“I’m worried about you,”
she finally says, her voice quieter.
“I’m worried you’ll try to...sell yourself to keep everyone safe.”
“Jesus, Meg!”
I stare at her, shocked.
“What kind of person do you think I am?”
“The kind who would sacrifice yourself for others,”
she says bluntly.
I shake my head.
“I’m not doing that. I’m just going to talk to him.”
Meg doesn’t look convinced, but she nods.
“Be careful. And ?”
She hesitates.
“The pregnancy...we’ll figure that out too. You’re not alone in this.”
Relief washes through me. “Thanks.”
After she leaves, I change into a clean shirt and run a hand through my hair.
The walk across campus to the faculty offices takes longer than I expect. I hesitate at the entrance of his building, suddenly unsure. What if Nash has orchestrated this whole thing? He could use this opportunity to assert his rights over our child.
“Stop it,”
I mutter to myself.
“You’ve faced worse than Nash stupid Thorndike.”
With a deep breath, I push open the door and enter the building.
Nash’ name is already on the directory in the lobby: Dr. Nash Thorndike, Visiting Professor, Evolutionary Psychology. Fourth floor, office 412.
The elevator ride gives me time to collect my thoughts, to plan what I’ll say. But all planning flies out of the window when I reach his door, left slightly ajar.
I knock once and push the door open without waiting for a response.
Nash sits behind a sleek desk, head bent over papers spread before him. He looks up at the sound of my entrance, and the blood drains from his face. In his hands I see my injunction, the papers I filed just days ago at the courthouse.
Our eyes meet, and the world seems to stand still.
“You’re pregnant,” he says.